


Truck-Shaped Interruption

by arsenicarose



Series: DreamNotFound COMFORT Fics [8]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: And George is V overwhelmed by having to recover and socialize, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Broken Bones, Car Accidents, Concussions, Dream is honestly so terrified the entire time, Fluff and Angst, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Violence, and so once again they are a mess, car crash, minor descriptions of injury, sudden love confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:40:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28852953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arsenicarose/pseuds/arsenicarose
Summary: George gets into an accident and drops off the digital earth. Dream has no idea what happened.No one does.(George is fine! He's just not online.)
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: DreamNotFound COMFORT Fics [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2050791
Comments: 32
Kudos: 618
Collections: MCYT





	Truck-Shaped Interruption

George woke with a start, eyes blinking, flashes of an unfamiliar room, harsh and white and too bright. He tried to pull his arms up to cover his eyes, to cower from the sharpness of everything, but they were rubbery and confused. They felt like they were someone else’s arms that had been hastily switched with his own. Confusion started to become anxiety, and his heart rate began to soar.

Suddenly, there was so much  _ noise _ . People talking and things moving, just a cacophony of sound. He wanted to cover his ears, but his arms still weren’t cooperating. It was completely overwhelming and he just wanted to scream.

A voice blanketed the rest of the noise, suddenly drawing his attention. “Mr. Davidson, it’s alright. You are in the hospital. Everything is okay.”

“Wha…?” He croaked, voice barely a whisper. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure that he had managed to make the correct sound. Why was everything wrong? His eyes started to bug out, and he  _ tried _ to move, but nothing worked.

“Please, Mr. Davidson, stay still. You were in an accident, and you are currently under medication. Your full range of motion should return soon, and you should make a full recovery. Just relax, please. Everything is alright.” 

The voice was trying to be calming, but it wasn’t helping, especially since all the information was terrifying. An accident? Medication? Range of motion? Recovery? What the hell was going on?

Suddenly, something was inside him, spreading through his veins. It burned like fire, painful and scary, but after it scorched its way through, it left him feeling heavy and drunk and  _ good _ . That delicious feeling chased away the searing pain, and he relaxed. He sank into it gratefully, happy to lose cognizance, rather than having to deal with whatever the hell was happening.

~~~

George woke a few more times, but he didn’t have any context for the hour or the frequency. Sometimes, when he woke up, he would forget what happened the moment he fell asleep again. Sometimes, his mom would be there, and her worried face would send him running back into unconsciousness. He didn’t have the energy to be real. If he got too close to the world, it hurt, soreness all over, especially in his chest. It hurt to  _ breathe _ , unless he was gone.

So he remained gone.

That couldn’t last forever, though. One day, he woke up fully. He could feel the difference, and he could tell that he had to face everything this time. His eyes tore open, far more adjusted to the never ending light, and looked around.

It was all harsh white on white, nothing like the calm grey of his bedroom. A couple blocks of black here and there, and some pastel blue, but none of it was a comfort to him. It screamed hospital and painful healing.

He wanted to go home.

With an unreasonable amount of effort, he managed to pull himself up a bit, though he regretted it immediately as a sharp stabbing pain shot through his abdomen. This set some machine off, and the beeping drew in a pair of nurses.

“Hello, Mr. Davidson. How are you feeling?”

“Terrible,” he coughed, sinking back into the bed, “What happened?”

One of the nurses kindly handed him some water, which he downed immediately. The other answered him quickly while checking on the machines and tubes. “You got into an accident, hon. You’ve been healing well though, and it’s good to see you awake! Don’t worry about all that right now. Your mom will be happy to see you’re alright.”

“Why does it hurt to move?” George asked, wincing as he tried to hand back the empty glass. He suddenly realized that, though his left arm was sore, his right arm was in a cast.

“Well… You broke a couple ribs, sweetie. Those are really painful.”

“Broken ribs? What? And my arm?”

The nurse shushed him, tucking him back into his bed. “Don’t worry about that, sweetheart. Right now, the only thing you need to focus on is resting and getting better.”

Just then, his mom came in, tears brimming in her eyes. For a moment, he completely forgot about his injuries, just so happy to see her, to be with her. It was as close to home as he could get, it seemed. She wouldn’t hug him, for fear of hurting his ribs, but she kissed his forehead and brushed his hair back. It felt so wonderful to be touched for comfort rather than the jostling that came from healthcare.

~~~

He started to wake up every day, and, somehow, he found a kind of routine. He would wake up, practice eating, rest for a bit, practice moving, rest, and then do it all again for lunch and dinner. He was determined to get well as soon as possible, because they wouldn’t let him go home they were sure he could handle it.

He was getting better at moving around, slowly but surely. He couldn’t get anywhere very quickly, and he got tired so fast, but it was good progress, dogged and determined, and he got a lot of praise from the nurses for his efforts. There was no memory loss, except for the accident itself, but he tried not to think about it. 

He knew that people were waiting for GeorgeNotFound, but he honestly couldn’t bring himself to get on social media. The amount of his energy that went into healing and learning to move again left him basically nothing else. Besides, it had been several weeks of absolute radio silence, and it just kept growing. He didn’t know how to broach the subject, so he didn’t.

He tried really hard not to think about his friends. It would be better if he waited until he was fully healed first anyway. If he could tell them he had been in an accident, but he was all better, they wouldn’t need to worry so much. At least, that was his reasoning (though it could have just been an excuse to not deal with it).

He especially tried not to think about Dream.

~~~

Eventually, he started to have more energy. Limping around his room on crutches no longer left him bedridden for an hour. All of his new reserves immediately went to feeling antsy. Anxiety was a constant companion, and finally he asked his mom to bring his phone in for him.

The thing had died in his long absence, nearly four weeks by that point, so he had to wait for it to charge enough to be useful. He used that time to ignore his feelings and chat with his mom for a little while. She was so proud of his progress, though sometimes she got a little shimmery-eyed when she looked at him. He assumed it was because she had seen him when he was first wheeled in, all blood and bruises, and she couldn’t have known then if they would ever get to talk again.

That was part of why he hadn’t reached out to Dream yet. He didn’t handle sad people well.

Finally, his mom seemed satisfied and told him to please talk to his friends. “They have to be so worried, sweetie, and I didn’t have any way to tell them!”

“We could talk a little longer, Mum,” he stalled, refusing to look at his phone.

“I’ve gotten so much time with you. They need you now.” She left before he could protest.

He knew his mom was right, but it was so scary. What would he find when he ventured back onto social media? Had the entire world exploded in his absence, or had he just been written off?

There was only one way to find out.

He turned his phone on, staring absently at the starting animation, waiting for it to load. The moment it had finished loading, his phone started vibrating, and it just didn’t stop. There were so many notifications that his phone was buzzing like he was getting a phone call. Thank goodness he had turned off twitter notifications, otherwise his phone might have drained its entire battery in alerting him to what he missed.

After a solid minute or two, it finally stopped, and he almost opened his messages, but, at the last moment, he lost his courage and retreated to twitter instead, just to take a peek at what had happened there. It was easier than actually talking to his friends.

His mentions were ridiculous. Everyone was asking where he was. Most of the tweets seemed to be more recent, because he had gone a week (or two) without tweeting before. As he went through the timeline, and the two times #wheresgogy went trending, he realized that at first it was all jokes about his infrequent uploads and inconsistent streaming, but then he just remained silent. The entire SMP was bombarded with questions about his sudden disappearance (even people he hadn’t really spoken to). The majority of the messages went to Sapnap, Bad, Karl, and Quackity, but Dream got more than all of them. Finally, about five days prior, Dream had been forced to admit that he had no idea what had happened to George.

The fan’s efforts became increasingly desperate by that point, but there was no information for them. That’s why #wheresgogy trended twice. The first time, it had been a joke, but the second time, it was real fear.

People had started to speculate that he had died. He decided to let his mom know how to contact Dream, just in case something like this, or worse happened, again. This time, it was his responsibility, no how much it terrified him. 

He scrolled through all the messages he had received. While out, he had gotten literally hundreds of messages from everyone who could contact him. People had even tagged him over and over in the merch discord, trying to get some information or response. He ignored those. There was no way he could reply to them all.

Every single person he knew, even people he never talked to anymore, had messaged him. His Discord had more notifications than the app would count, his texts were bombarded by the only four people who had his number, and he had missed pages of calls. Some of his friends and fans had even resorted to sending things to his business email.

Out of curiosity, George scanned through the messages he had been getting, knowing that a lot of them would be lost, and realized something awful. Dream, Sapnap, and George had been fighting. George had completely forgotten how bad it had been at the time. He remembered the fight, something where Dream and Sapnap had teased him, it had gone too far, and George had suddenly left without saying another word. It just hadn’t seemed as serious after waking up to the tubes and broken things and bruising.

Of course, to Dream and Sapnap, it had been incredibly serious. They hadn’t spoken since George left the voice chat, which was almost exactly a month prior.

The first messages were joking, asking him why he was taking it so seriously. Then, anger as he continued to “hold it against them,” with scattered apologies and begging, then real worry, followed by deeper and deeper worry. There were scattered messages from other people from around the same time, saying things like, “I get that you're mad at Dream/Sapnap, but can you at least let us know you’re okay?”

George could practically feel the desperation pouring out of those messages, and he felt bad for not trying to communicate sooner, even though he was sure it would have been too much to deal with even a few days earlier. He started to draft a long text to send to everyone, but it quickly became impossible, so he gave up, deleting it all.

He gave in, and called Dream.

Dream picked up in a second. “George?!”

George had expected anger or something along those lines, but what he got was a choked sound, close to a sob. Dream was expecting the worst. “Hey…”

“George, oh my God! Fuck, I- Oh my fucking- I genuinely thought- I mean, you’ve  _ never _ \- Even when you were super mad, you would at least  _ reply _ . I thought… I thought… God, I was starting to think you were actually…” Dream couldn’t finish the sentence.

“No, I’m not dead,” George finished for him, “but… I sort of… I got hit by a truck…”

“WHAT?”

“Yeah… Super bad timing, it was like the day after our fight, too. I’m so sorry.”

“You’re sorry? No,  _ I’m _ sorry. Are you okay? Were you out for a  _ month _ ?”

“Um… Yeah, I guess I’m okay? I’m still healing… And no, I was out for a little under two weeks, but I had some… recovering to do before I could talk to… anyone. Don’t worry though! They’re taking great care of me here, and my mum has been here the whole time too.”

“George, I… I don’t even know what to say. I’m so sorry you got hurt, but I’m glad you’re better! What… What exactly are you healing from?”

The nurses had been hesitant to tell him the extent of his injuries when he had first come to. In fact, he hadn’t been able to find out the full list until a few days before, but he did finally know. “Well, a concussion, which was a lot of fun, let me tell you. I also broke a few ribs, not sure how many, but ouch. Dislocated the left shoulder, fracture on the right radius, plus the broken knee. The knee could have been worse, apparently… My arm took most of it according to the doctors. There were also some random bruises and scrapes, but those are mostly better…” George let himself trail off, waiting for something from Dream.

Dream was silent for a long time, so long that George started to worry that Dream had just hung up on him, but the call was still connected. Finally, after a good minute, George finally said, “Uh… Dream?”

“I’m just… Wow… I mean…” Dream went silent again.

George decided to give him a moment, to let him absorb it all. It had been a lot when he had to learn it too.

“A-are you doing better now, though?” Dream asked hesitantly, “Like you said you were healing, so…”

“Yeah, I’m loads better, don’t worry. I’m healing. Still a bit sore, but, better.”

Another long pause, before, finally, “I want to help.”

“What? Help with what?”

Dream sounded determined. “I’m going to help. Let me come help. You’ll be going home soon, right? I want to be there.”

“Why?”

“Because… Just… Don’t worry about why. Your mom needs the help I’m sure, and a break. Let me help.”

“Um… I mean… If you really want to, sure? I don’t know how much help I’ll actually need, but…”

“I can just be there for emotional support, or whatever. George, listen… You were gone for a  _ month _ , and… I was just so worried, honestly. I just… I want to help, okay?” There was a heavy pause, then Dream whispered, “George, I just… I need to see that you’re alright…”

“Um… Okay, thanks, Dream… I really appreciate that.” And George did appreciate it, but it felt a bit weird. He wasn’t sure why.

~~~

After a few hours on the phone, making arrangements and running things past George’s mom, everything was set up, and Dream was set to fly over and stay for quite a long time. George couldn’t believe he was really getting to meet Dream in person, but also worried about Dream meeting him as he was. His injuries were healing well, and he could even walk around with a boot, but he wasn’t in top shape. It was a little embarrassing.

Just after their call ended, Dream tweeted:

_ Hello everyone. I have an update on George… He was in a hit and run and had to be in the hospital for a bit. Don’t worry! He is healing well! He just needs some time away to recover.  _ :]

The responses to the tweet were immediate and intense. A lot of people angrily accused Dream of lying. Soon there were wild theories and conspiracies floating around again, and it was getting a bit out of hand. George decided it was finally time to break the silence.

After a lot of debate, he decided to have his mom take a picture. He arranged the blankets on the hospital bed so that his boot and cast were sticking out, and posed with an exhausted smile. He looked slightly pained and very tired, but it would work perfectly. Hopefully that would shut everyone up.

_ My mom helped me take/post this. Hope to be back soon.  _ <3

Suddenly, the replies were a lot more sympathetic, and, strangely, a lot of the replies on Dream’s original tweet disappeared.

~~~

After another week, he was allowed to go home. He wasn’t completely healed, but he was much better, and he honestly couldn’t stand to be in there for another second.

Dream was due to arrive the next day.

In the time between his call with Dream and going home, he had managed to talk to a lot of his friends. Sapnap was a little hurt that George had called Dream first, and then not called him (“I had to find out through Dream’s tweet, George!”), but he couldn’t actually stay mad. Everyone but Dream had found out through the tweet, and everyone knew that Dream was special to George.

He ended up talking to most of the people on the SMP by the end of the week, with everyone calling in to check on him. It was a little bizarre, honestly. George hadn’t realized how many people cared about him.

His fans, of course, were being extra sweet. A lot of them were begging for a PayPal or a GoFundMe they could donate to, but he adamantly refused. It got so bad that he actually tweeted about it.

_ A gentle reminder to my American followers: Your concern and love is greatly appreciated, but healthcare is free in the UK, so this won’t bankrupt me. I appreciate your desire to help, though. If you want to donate to me, please give the money to a person in need on my behalf  _ <3

Thankfully, all the drama made it easier to deal with the anticipation of Dream coming by. His mother was incredibly excited (though George couldn’t figure out why), and was doing everything in her power to make things easier for them.

“I’ll make sure to spend lots of time away, okay! Give you and Dream some space!” she promised giddily.

“But why, Mum?”

She never answered that, choosing to laugh and wink conspiratorially instead. He wondered if his mom thought Dream was his boyfriend. George could only dream.

Getting to be in his own place again was wonderful. He hadn’t been there in so long that he had to hold back tears. No more hospital smell and bright whiteness everywhere. No more single bed and people checking on him at all hours. No more being away from his computer. He limped inside and savored it. It even  _ smelled  _ like home.

His mom helped him get back to his room, and he sat on his bed, wincing only slightly. His ribs were much better, but they were still a little tight sometimes. His arm was due to be pulled from the cast next week, and they were going to check on his knee too.

He flopped back on the double bed (he had finally upgraded with his YouTube money to a reasonably sized one), and savored the feeling. Everything was perfect.

And he would get to meet Dream the next day.

~~~

His mother was kind enough to get Dream from the airport for him, since Dream didn’t know how to drive a British car, and George couldn’t drive even when his limbs weren’t encased. Unfortunately, this left George alone in his flat, unable to even pace his anxiety away.

Feelings he had never really dealt with started bubbling to the surface, and he suddenly realized how bad this was going to be for him. There were no extra rooms, so Dream was going to be sleeping on an air mattress in  _ his _ room. With Dream “helping,” they were probably going to spend most of their time physically in the same space. How was he meant to deal with all of that?

The front door opened, and George could hear the easy conversation flow between Dream and his mother as it poured through the living room.

“Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so excited to meet up with someone,” His mom was gushing.

George blushed immediately.  _ God dammit, Mum. _

“Well, I don’t think I’ve ever been so excited myself, Ms. Davidson. Your son is… Um, anyway.”

His mother just laughed. “Well, I really have to be off. I promised I would check in at work today. Can you look after George?”

“Of course. Best of luck at work!”

“Thank you, sweetie! And you have my cell in case anything goes wrong?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Alright, you two kids have fun!” With that, the front door closed again, with a dull thud that echoed through the entire flat.

George’s heart was pounding in his chest. Dream was in his place.  _ Dream _ was  _ in _ his  _ home _ . And his mother had  _ left them alone together _ . What was he supposed to do?

“Hey, George? You there?” Dream called out, voice unsure.

George wanted to scream with fear, but that would be super weird. “Uh, yeah, I’m in here.”

“Where’s ‘here?’”

George tucked the crutches into his arm pits and pushed himself to standing. Trying to yell directions through the entire building didn’t really appeal to him, and he was perfectly capable of getting himself around. 

He limp-hopped into the living room, and there Dream was. God, he was handsome. Of course, Dream was handsome. Dream had to be good at  _ everything _ , and now George couldn’t pretend like he didn’t have feelings, which is something he had been doing perfectly well for a long time.

The moment Dream saw him, his eyes lit up, though. It filled George with a deep warmth that he couldn’t quite name, and it made him feel a little better. If Dream could look at him like  _ that _ , maybe he had permission to be that attractive.

“Hey, George,” Dream said, quietly.

“Hey, Dream.”

“That truck really did a number on you, huh?”

“Yeah, well, you should see the truck! I think the grill might have been smudged!”

Dream laughed, and it took over his whole body, just like George imagined it would. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks for coming out. I really didn’t… I mean, you have always been so kind, but I didn’t expect something like  _ this _ .”

“I would do anything for you, Georgie.” The moment it left his lips, Dream looked horrified, like he had made some huge mistake.

“Thanks, Dream. That means a lot to me,” he replied, completely missing the deeper meaning. He just limped over to his best friend. “I know I look pretty broken, but you are allowed to give me a hug, if you want…”

Dream embraced him without hesitation, though gently, like he was made of glass. George leaned his body against Dream’s for support and rested his head on Dream’s chest. It felt like absolute heaven, and, for a moment, George completely forgot he was even injured. It felt like Dream could protect him from anything, as long as they were holding each other.

After a few minutes, Dream started to pull away. George would never force anything, so he let go, wobbling slightly. Dream had to contain a giggle at George’s instability. It was kind of cute, honestly.

“George, I was thinking, maybe we could move to the couch or something?” Dream suggested, “Standing that long can’t be good for you…”

George blushed slightly at his own assumption that Dream didn’t want to touch him. “Right. Of course. That sounds like a good plan.”

It was a bit difficult to arrange them. George had his huge boot and cast to deal with, and if he twisted too much, it sent a rippling pain through his chest. Dream couldn’t sit in George’s lap, simply because he was much taller, so they had to do some testing before they found the right position. They settled on George sitting on Dream’s lap, facing forwards, with his legs draped over Dream’s legs, and Dream’s arms looped carefully around his stomach. George leaned back into the warm body behind him, savoring every moment. 

It was absolute heaven. Dream was holding him loosely, but securely, and they were touching from torso to knee, one warm line of connection. George’s head fell back against Dream’s chest as he let himself just be in comfort and support. He never wanted to have to let go, and he was sure he looked ridiculous because of it. Thank goodness Dream couldn’t see his face.

They sat like that for a while, in comfortable silence, with Dream fidgeting a little, for a long time. Finally, Dream settled, rested his chin on George’s shoulder, and whispered, “I love you, George.”

George’s eyes went wide. Hearing it through a microphone was one thing, but having it right in his ear? With Dream holding him? It was almost too good. He took a few deep breaths, reminding himself that Dream said it all the time, and replied, “I love you too, Dream,” with a sigh.

They sat in silence for a while longer, until Dream gently pushed on George’s back.

George stood, carefully, bracing himself on the couch. “Everything alright?”

“I  _ love _ you, George…” Dream repeated.

George met his gaze and saw the seriousness there, but refused to read it for what it was. There was no way. There was absolutely no way he could be that blessed, that  _ lucky _ . He laughed awkwardly, turning away. “I love you too, Dream…”

Dream took George’s hand in his, gripping it for dear life. “George, please…”

“Please what…?” George looked down again to see the earnestness and  _ need _ painted on Dream’s face.

“George, do you… Um… Have you ever… I mean, I like…” Dream stammered, uselessly.

“Oh… Oh! Dream, do you… Are you  _ in _ love with me?”

Dream’s eyes slid shut, heat spreading across his cheeks like fire. He nodded once.

“Oh, Dream, I…” George didn’t know what to say, so he leaned down, holding on to Dream’s shoulders, and kissed him on the forehead.

Dream looked up and grinned. “Really?”

“Really.”

George fell back into Dream’s lap, and they were kissing immediately, though still gently for fear of hurting George. All of the emotions they had been holding back, the love, the worry, the horror, the loss, all poured out at once. There might have been some tears, but they were too busy wrapped up in each other to care.

There wasn’t a lot they could actually do with George still recovering, but thankfully, Dream had planned to stay for a long time, and George’s mom would have to work every day. They would have plenty of time to figure it all out.


End file.
